That Familiar Darkness

Dusk

It’s waiting for me—that familiar darkness. It is never fully out of sight. Like a shadow it follows me—most visible when life (like the sun) is most bright.

And even in my resisting, I am actually just easing into it—slipping it on. That well-known gloom engulfing me like a well-worn robe—so tattered it’s cozy—a discomfort that feels like home.

I have already waded in. Its subtle undertow has taken hold. Everything is work—like walking through deep water. There is nowhere else to go.

That familiar darkness has come for me, and (like a child with separation anxiety) I don’t want to go.

I know that I will survive—perhaps even learn and grow. But I don’t know how long the tunnel is. And I’m still afraid of the dark.

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “That Familiar Darkness

  1. You capture the struggle of walking through darkness of mind and spirit in such an eerie and frightening way… and yet there is a beautiful quality to your descriptions of what is real and heavy. I was especially struck by the tension of “even in my resisting, I am actually just easing into it… a discomfort that feels like home” and by your ocean imagery: “Its subtle undertow has taken hold. Everything is work—like walking through deep water.” So scary and relatable. You have a gift for evoking emotions in the physicality of your writing. Thank you for this bravely honest piece.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Enough in Every Season | Write Away

  3. Pingback: Depression Is Like | Write Away

  4. Pingback: What Depression Is Like | Write Away

  5. Pingback: What Depression Is Like – TWLOHA

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s